Althea s Lovely Weekends
- 4 years ago
- 49
- 0
The BookChapter 3: A Weekend By The Book - II free porn video
Saturday morning, a dreamy semi-spring day crept up on Bob. He managed to get out of bed anyway. He knew the morning would give him little time to get chores out of the way...
Bob could feel the detergent powder against his skin after putting the bed clothes in to wash. The odor of sex had turned sour during the night, and he had felt obliged to get his house into a more pristine condition before Betty showed up.
Randi had left her panties and bra behind. He felt like a teenager, finding forbidden fruit. He was going to stow them away to return later. As he did, he noticed her fragrance had remained on the lingerie. He hesitated for a moment, then put them in a plastic bag in the crawl space. He didn't think Betty would explore there.
Musing, he considered the practicalities of Randi moving in as his slave. Although she volunteered, he didn't see any practical means of keeping her in line without 'adjustment'.
Not that he was bothered by the power he had over her, but it was somehow more enjoyable when she *had* to cooperate without manipulation.
Not that he'd ever be able to explain to Betty.
He turned on some music, an old Beatles album. About the time he heard the line "she came in through the bathroom window..." the doorbell rang.
Betty was in the study, working on an art project. Sometimes when she came over, it was to make use of the extra space his home afforded. She lived in an apartment about 30 minutes away, so while convenient, it wasn't exactly a trip she would make for only one purpose.
She realized that if she'd done this Friday night, she and Bob wouldn't have any time together. She was somewhat pleased that the speakers were fixed now too. She brushed something off her slacks.
Maybe, she thought, maybe Bob's the one. A real keeper, the 'Man of my dreams'. He'd stopped pushing her about sex lately too. This was a 'Good Thing' and to be admired, since it meant she could control that silly activity if they ever got married.
She dismissed the whole stream of thoughts for now, since, after all, marriage is a serious topic. She was still having fun with Bob, not ready to be completely serious yet.
She struggled to straighten out the mat she had cut for her art.
Bob, in the other room, smiled to himself after eavesdropping on her thoughts. Controlling sex was a trivial issue now that he could slip a new chain of symbols into her nervous system.
He was satisfied with reading her mind at the moment. The time would come to strip her of the misconception sex was silly. It just would have to wait.
"How long is a china man?" he called to her.
"What?" he'd gotten her attention.
"When are you going to be finished?," he shouted. "I've some yard work to do, but I might need to run some errands too."
"Go ahead, I could be a few hours. Then maybe we can go out for dinner!" she called back. He shuddered, wondering what type of culinary horror she would foist upon him this time.
He stepped out to the garage, getting the lawnmower out. Soon, he was lost in the numbing vibrations, watching the clippings that escaped through the gap between the housing and the ground. He contemplated the fate of these small clippings.
He could feel people around him.
Betty, most certainly. But across the street he could sense the kids playing on the swingset/kid fort behind the house. He could feel the couple next door, working separately on household chores. Two teenagers were hiding behind a garage making out. Mr. Graenspin two blocks over had a whale of a hangover.
The drivers of cars passing by sent out mixed signals of braking, accelerating. The mailman was frustrated by sorting the goddamn mail for the twerps in 352, but he was looking forward to delivering to that divorced Mrs. Lansing. A bicyclist was staring at the tire before him rolling along the road.
The rolling murmur of mind voices started as a trickle but was starting to roar. It was building to a shouting crescendo! Bob dropped to his knees, clutching his hands over his ears and scream, at least he thought he did. The book had done this! He hadn't expected to hear everyone at once!
Seal them out, seal them out! The alien thoughts were pounding at the gates of his mind... he had to stop them. When he could work in a few thoughts of his own he imagined a curtain around his mind. He drew it about that thing which was 'Bob' and closed in underneath.
The mass of minds quieted. He could still feel the plundering assault in throbbing waves, a little like the water of a shower pushing the curtain back. Realization dawned that his range had steadily increased and was undergoing another enormous growth. What he needed was some kind of filter, a bubble, some kind of shield he could selectively see through... and as he thought it, the shield began to form.
He found he was kneeling in the grass. Certain the entire crisis had lasted less than a handful of seconds, he continued to kneel, panting from the released pressure. It would pass, but the exertion of fighting off the effects of his power left him weak.
He had only a few more passes to make with the mower. He fought through it tenaciously.
He'd gone in the bathroom to recover. Betty, who was still diligently working, wouldn't disturb him in here. She seemed to respect some activities as sacrosanct.
He stretched out in the tub, fully dressed and leaned back. There must be a suitable way to relax after that experience. He thought his head would burst like a bad scene in a horror flick.
The best relaxation he could think of was sex.
Well, with Betty here, that was out for sure. Then the glimmerings of a plan came up from the cellars of his mind.
Testing his control of the shield he'd constructed, he looked in on the neighboring couple. He couldn't remember their names, but he could find out as he slipped into their minds.
The woman was easy to find. He was getting used to exploring women's thoughts...
She was taking a breather, sitting on the edge of her bed. She wasn't bad to look at, thought Bob, seeing her in the mirror through her own eyes.
Her brown/blonde hair was styled into a fluffy perm. Her face without make up was attractive, high cheeks, narrow nose, expressive mouth, with a round, smooth chin. Her body was athletic, not real busty, but curved and rounded at the chest. From what he could make out of her legs, she was sculpted nicely there too.
The decision came upon him, he wanted to make her, right now! It was just a matter of how to go about taking her. Thinking of his remote experience last night with his slave toys, the plan continued to grow in his mind.
He insinuated a control over the woman, making her wait at the edge of the bed.
Seeking out her husband, Bob slipped his consciousness into the man. He suppressed the other man's self into a sleep. Bob looked at his new hands, rough and callused from physical labor.
He saw he was in the man's workshop, and had been running a lathe. He cut the power to the device. It took a little searching in the man's head to sort out the layout of the house. In short order he was at the door to the bedroom.
Before him, sat his lovely wife. Whoooops! Boy, did the native mind's thoughts crept up on him. Bob sat beside her inside this other body, turning her towards him for a light lip brushing kiss. She dropped her eyes.
"Oh honey, it's the middle of the day..." Bob tickled the nerves to send signals of mild arousal through her back, legs, arms and neck.
"I'll try to make it as though we've never touched before..." he whispered into an ear he had lifted a wisp of hair away from.
She silently acquiesced to his advances.
Kicking his shoes off, he laid her back over the freshly made bed. She set her arms above her head and allowed him to sink his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues wrestled. Occasionally, he sucked one, then the other lip between his own, striving to created the physical sensations he could feel she craved. With fingertips afire, he traced the muscles of her neck. He followed the same path afterwards with the tip of his, er, her husband's, tongue.
After a moments pause to contemplate her engrossed expression, he carefully unbuttoned the first of her blouse's buttons. The skin exposed by this was treated to a gentle nibbling by his lips. Tactile sensations flooded outward from each spot he touched. He could feel the surge of excitement radiating within his own, er the other man's, body as well. Another button, another worshipful engagement of skin. He undid the third button, exposing the clasp of her bra. As he finished the skin to skin communication this time, he undid the bra's clasp, but stayed his hand from curling back the clothe.
By now she was squirming with luxurious joy. It was quiet, she, unlike his other recent conquests, was remarkably silent in her repose. When he pulled back the sides of her blouse, she began to pull it off herself, but he stopped her. She allowed him to roll her sleeves down from the shoulders one at a time, and as he did, his lips and tongue came to explore the newly exposed skin. She finally release a single low moan.
Bob reached across with a sliver of thought and magnified the sensation for her. He could see within her that she no longer had any control over her responsiveness.
Speeding the process a bit, he pulled her shorts away, leaving her clad now only in a partially opened bra, and her panties. Edging a hand down into the back of her panties, he brushed the backs of her cheeks. They clenched together under his hand beginning a hip motion of incredible delight to Bob.
The nameless woman before him watched his own motions as he stripped himself of the clothes he'd worn into the room. Moving on her own, she cupped his erect cock, a fairly normal size, in her hands and performed some of her own worshipful contact touches. He lay on his back and she began to trace her tongue all over him, with sensual little nips at his nipples.
She tossed the now useless bra aside and putting her two slender legs together, she slid the panties off over her knees, ankles, then toes. He could see the panties were drenched. Undressed, the view of her was glorious. Her pussy hair was short and curly, forming a vase shape over her crotch. Her tits were little more than an handful, with erect pointing nipples begging for attention.
He reached out to caress them. She slipped her lips over his prick. The tongue gently tickling the head of his prick, she took little nips at the skin along the length. He was surprised how agile she was at this. Then she vacuumed the entire length right down into her throat! He strained not to come yet. She began to turn this into a serious problem, diving up and down a few times, pausing, then repeating the performance.
On one of her thrusts, with penis lodged deeply in her throat, he loosed a torrent of come. He could make out the swallowing muscles on the side of her neck.
She sat up and smiled, licking any remaining drops from her lips. There was a self satisfied, somewhat superior look on her face.
Not to be completely outdone, he turned her on her back and lifted her hips. He started nibbling at her thighs, creamy soft on the surface, strong and well exercised thighs. Working his tongue amongst the folds of skin between her legs, he rapidly found the little boat her slit enfolded into. There at the apex, was the knob of flesh he was seeking. Bob added a little stimulus to the already twitching nerves, a surge of pleasant symbols tickling in amongst the others her body already was producing.
Holding her hips up, he worked around so his host's balls hung over her face, her knees resting on his shoulders. This exposed her ass to penetration by his fingers. Feeling the apprehension at her ass being invaded, he found the symbols in the nerve stream were countering the gentle brushes his fingertips were making. He eased the pain symbols out of the stream, and suddenly the arousal increased accordingly.
With the backdoor open to his gentle touch, he lubricated his fingers in her cunt to a growing stream of quiet suppressed moans. He continued to lick the lips of her cunt, but began sliding first one, then two, then three fingers in passed her sphincter.
To his delight she was trying to press the fingers in deeper. By now she had found his cock hanging before her face enticing. He was being sucked, nibbled and licked back to stiffness.
Finally, hard again, he stood on the bed. Continuing to hold her hips up off the bed, he entered the darkest cavern she held. He pressed his hosts cock into her anus until his balls rested, nestled between her ass cheeks. She, lost in her new sensations, went into overdrive.
She pummeled her ass against him, seething with desire to suck the rest of him into her rectum. He reached down and began to brutalize her nipples, now raging with a sensitivity to the surge of pain/pleasure that drove through her tits to her throat.
"Gaaaaaawwwddddaammmnnniitt!" she burst out from her throat with all the pent up lust contained in their actions. "FUGMEEEEE!" as she worked through the wild thrashing and to her climax.
He pulled out of her ass and entered her now steaming pussy. Wet and surging, her muscles squeezed the invading prick, causing another spreading ejaculation. He was able to unleash another flood, enough so that the new made bed would require changing again.
"unnnghh..." he muttered. Looking at the doll like woman before him, he saw she was wasted from her exertion.
"You never made love to my ass before, sweetheart." she whispered in oblivion.
"I told you it would be as though we'd never touched before..." He let the man, his host, collapse. He planted a memory of this pleasant experience behind and looked up at the shower curtain. Oddly, his own body felt alien to him on returning.
This time Bob hadn't messed himself. He was completely thrilled at the remote control sex he'd orchestrated. He felt refreshed from the experience, not burnt out. And Betty was still working away downstairs, none the wiser...
They'd ended up at an Italian restaurant. It was a well hidden place named Lorenzo's. The checkered tablecloths covered small tables crowded together in such a way as to prevent two people from sitting back to back.
He ordered the Fettucini, she ordered Linguini in Clam Sauce. While they waited for dinner, the waiter had left bread sticks for them.
He wasn't feeling very talkative, so Betty had let him be so far.
He watched with interest as she picked up her bread stick, slipped it into her mouth and pulled the little seeds off by pulling the stick out of her mouth. She had to repeat this several times to get all the seeds off. Then she'd turn it around and work on the other end.
When she found several seeds remained, he found, she began to use her little pink tongue to wet them down so they'd pop loose.
The images of bread sticks licked seductively, plunging them in and out of her sweet lips, left his manhood strained against the crotch of his pants. He determined it would be a bad time to stand up.
She was as deep in thought as he and was, as he watch, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth a fraction of an inch. He found he could spot her teeth closed lightly on the tip of her tongue when she did this. It infuriated him to know she insisted on waiting until they got married to share any real intimacy.
He wondered if she knew about the little turn on motions she made, or if it was all just a part of her mannerism.
And wondering was the same as acting, for in an instant he had a thread into her mind.
She was considering the wisdom of having expresso after the meal. She knew it would keep her up most of the night, but she liked the strong coffee flavor after pasta. She could tell Bob was tense, but why, she asked herself.
He had been fine around the house, she thought he was developing some real talents for property upkeep. In fact when she'd gotten to his house this morning, the kitchen was spotless. She could almost believe he'd spent much of the evening cleaning last night.
She enjoyed having him treat her well. This dinner was excellent, although she really should have insisted on the Thai cuisine she was more interested in tonight. He hadn't quite allowed her to manipulate the decision as smoothly as usual. Somehow she miscalculated his willingness to yield to her wants and was surprised when he hadn't given in when she agreed to Italian. The ploy had always worked before.
She would make him take her to a movie. This would help both of them, she decided. He'd lose the tension he was displaying with a nice dramatic romance movie, she was sure. The care and feeding of Bob, she thought, I'm becoming the expert.
Annoyed, Bob withdrew the thread. He should have realized there was no conscious effort to be sexy, seductive or mildly enticing on her part. She was above such things in her own mind. A touch manipulative, but she wasn't aware of those little sex cues she sent out in body language.
Maybe he should re-evaluate the relationship with her... no, he should just modify it a bit. He grinned.
Betty took this as a sign he was perking up. There was no way for her to know how this would change her life...
They were at the movie. It was some poor excuse for an artsy dramatic romance. He was bored.
If only the flick had a touch of humor, rather than drowsy monotone conversations, he might enjoy it. He liked romance, even tear jerkers, but not painfully dragging ones. The only thing worse would be watching nothing but TV commercials for two hours running.
So he began to scan the near vicinity for interesting minds to explore.
A narrow trail of thought wandering the neighborhood almost escaped his attention. Not really thought, but in the spectrum he saw the symbols in. It was narrow and straight, a bright beam of thought energy. But Bob couldn't sense any symbols within the path, rather maybe he could. It looked like a simple imperative demand for a subconscious response, a sort of feedback ping.
Watching it closely, Bob concluded it was traversing a circle, not unlike a radar. He traced back towards its source, but the closer his own probe reached for the source, the harder it was to dodge away so the beam missed him.
A quick jab at the heart of the beacon gave him a view of three men sitting with a stack of electronic gear. He pulled back just in time not to come in contact with the beacon... Could these be the 'hunters' from yesterday's encounter?
He jabbed out and back again, trying to pull an impression from one of the men. He no sooner established contact than it was over. There wasn't any way to learn from this without being trapped in the mysterious beacon. Where were these guys at least?
Then the beam stopped sweeping. He could sense they had locked onto something. He pushed in again to see what he'd found. Tapping into the senses of one of the men he found himself looking on as another pulled a wirelike helmet over his head.
"Probably another guy, figured out he was telepathic, screwing anything in skirts he can find." he heard a voice.
"That or some jerk, just taking things away from other people. They get that way when they figure out no one can stop them. Usually, the property branch can pick them up just by following the weird police reports. You know, 'I lost my car- I gave it away, but I don't know how or why', some Sparks got no imagination."
"Yeah, but it can go for months without one of the creeps popping up."
"The naturals are rare, ya know. You ain't gonna find large numbers of them."
Bob realized the man he had probed was a trainee and the explanations were for his benefit, so to speak. Two great coincidental events!, the telepath popping up just now, and a newly indoctrinated trainee to delve for info.
He dug in for information from this man. These were the 'hunters', he was sure. They were trying to find telepaths. No big surprise so far. They worked for some kind of super secret research project. It was vague, vaporous even, the mystery source of funds and the authority behind the project.
"My god!, its a woman!" One of the hunters exclaimed. "There aren't many of them at the institute. The White Coats always wants another to study, we may get a bonus!"
Suddenly interested, Bob determined this woman was one telepath that would slip free of their net. First, with speed he didn't know he could muster, he traced down their scanning beam, finding the woman.
{Flee, conceal your talent!} he sent.
{Who} she radiated {where are you?}
{hunters follow} he threw out cryptically {they'll catch you.} He pulled her home address from her mind before slipping back to the hunters.
He quickly realized he'd made some kind of error, there were all kinds of alarms going off. The trainee was fumbling with a small electronic device, trying to get it over his right ear.
"hurry, we can't let her know anymore than she already does!" The other man was helping the trainee. Suddenly, there was no one there for him to read. Three lumps of emptiness he could feel but couldn't penetrate had taken the place of the hunters he'd been watching.
Allowing himself to snap free, he found his constructed defense personality had escorted Betty back to the car. My, he thought, it's nice to be able to do two things at once.
Back at the house, he invited her in for a cup of Java. It was rare for him to do this, but not unusual. He knew she'd insist on tea though.
"Oh Bob, I'd love to come in, but how about tea rather than coffee. It is so much better for you at the end of the day."
Cheryl
- 08.01.2023
- 20
- 0
